tampered | Log; incomplete; closedish?

Log; incomplete; closedish?

When; Friday, November 06th, around 7ish
Rating; G? PG? Will probably have some swearing just because.
Characters; Anyone that got invited to Ishida's birthday.
Summary; It's Ishida's birthday, and some people in the City decide to throw him a party. Whether he likes it or not.
Log;

To be honest, Doumeki doesn't really know what Nemu's apartment looks like right now. He just trusts Inoue-san's judgment on decoration. He also supposes he'd probably have to try whatever strange thing she had been baking earlier. Fortunately, he had asked Watanuki to cook dinner, so he knows that dinner, at least, will taste good. It's cold out--colder than Doumeki remembers it being last year, and he can see is breath as his hands curl into fists in his pockets in an attempt to keep them warm. He pauses by the door of building 10, moving to open the door for the both of them. "Them" being him and Ishida.

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Honestly, Kurotsuchi Nemu did not often attend parties- even to the most dull of observers it could have been obvious. But she knew tradition, and she knew information at it's basest. Which led to minor alterations in decor once the others had come, which meant there was a wrapped gift, her name carefully penned as the giver, and a Quincy the receiver, and why she had discarded shinigami robes in favor of one of the dresses he had picked out for her, so very long ago-

But also why she hung back to let the others do the greeting, the smiles, her own small and subtle as she stood quietly behind them.

As she promised, she's been prepping up as much as she possibly can. Getting everything to Nemu's apartment, she knows, would be impossible without the help of friends, but in the end, with everyone's assistance, the party is ready to go.

Balloons, streamers, ~~lace for curtains~~-- and treats. Oh, treats galore-- are decorating the place on set tables. A section for the desserts is covered off so people don't go snacking before they have the snacks everyone else brought, and for the most part, everything looks pretty aesthetically pleasant. As soon as Doumeki and Ishida are heard though, she quickly gestures to the others to get together-- Ishida is certainly not expecting this and she's sure that Ishida wouldn't have gotten any information out of her conversation with Doumeki, since she knew her filters weren't exactly working in the first place.

I hope he's actually happy about this... she thinks, as she glances over at her friends, enthusiasm written over her face.

"That's Doumeki-san's voice... Ishida-kun ought to be with him! Hurry, gather around!" She mutters to herself. Seeking out Tatsuki and Ichigo, and Rukia and whoever else is here-- she turns to face the door, her fists tight in anticipation.

This is it, she thinks, as she hears the door click...

Whatever the lady wants, is her motto. So usually, if Orihime wants to put up decorations, then she's there to help. It's a tough job, but someone's gotta do it.

She smiles softly when she notices Orihime's expression, and adds a sloppy ribbon on her present, before tossing it with the others.

Then she joins her best friend's side, and pats her head. "Don't worry, it'll be great."

It was difficult not to be suspicious. No, Doumeki-san forcing him outside and into mundane activities, while still irritating and befuddling, was not unusual. But, inviting (forcing) him to a dinner prepared by Watanuki-san, in a completely different apartment? Someone else may have been hosting, perhaps that girl, Hikaru-san, or the other, Sakura-san -- but Ishida Uryu was not unaware of it being his birthday, either.

Without the memories of previous years, however, he could little fathom them knowing or acting on it. (One would hope that he would be asked, so to give the obvious answer: do nothing). But the possibility did exist, and perhaps a small part of him, so ignored as to be near subconscious, would have been disappointed had there been nothing.

The possibility did not prepare him for the door opening, and over Doumeki's arm onto the sight of balloons, streamers, proper party decorations. Uryu stared, too dumbfounded to even react with what was now instinct: a brusque, cold attitude, irritation and rejection.

His hand froze halfway to his face, apparently forgetting its intention to adjust his glasses.

Doumeki stepped to the side, out of the way of the doorway, hands in his pockets, so that Ishida could see the room in all it's glory. Granted, he hadn't seen much of it himself, and was rather impressed with Orihime (and likely Tatsuki's) decorations. He actually counted himself lucky that there weren't that many of them there. Six people, in total. Not bad, and not too much.

"Yo," she said, grinning tersely. Ishida, you appreciate this, or we'll shove cake down your neck until you get sugar high and smile, god's sake. "Happy birthday and surprise."

Nemu herself was very sure that one ought to look rather more joyous at such an occassion, but that kind of expression... it would only look fake on her face. But she did wear a soft sort of smile, raising a hand in something like a wave, fingers curling.

"Congratulations on the day of your birth."

He was just helping Watanuki with the food. That was it.

But somehow, Ichigo had ended up dragging Rukia along with him, and now, now he was hovering in the kitchen, wondering how the hell he was going to slide out without anybody noticing--especially Doumeki. He'd said happy birthday to Ishida, so what else was he supposed to do? Presents were for kids and girls, so he hadn't bothered getting one, and almost everybody here was somebody he saw pretty much everyday. It wasn't like they'd miss him.

This was such a pain in the ass.

Rukia, having spent much of her time so far in the City--to her knowledge, the first time, or rather to her recollection--getting acquainted with the space more than the people, found herself slipping into character for this event without meaning to. It was, perhaps, too second-nature to take on a persona that was half crafted of someone she used to be--blunt and unperturbed by her own handing and even pleased with it--and half of someone she had never been--detached beyond a surface connection, though that might have once made things easier. She felt herself, as usual, not Ichigo's keeper, but certainly a friend, perhaps a stabilizer of sorts, and while such situations in some ways only emphasized the distance between two worlds he was a part of and the one she remained tethered to--by choice or otherwise--she still felt an inclination towards having him notice that he was noticed.

It was an easy thing, to walk up to him without announcement and snap him out of his own thoughts--perhaps about escape if she could read that peevish look on his face; she could. Or it ought to be easy, she thought, padding on silent feet toward him before jabbing him none too lightly in the side.

"You're not leaving."

It had nothing to do with social propriety and everything to do with knowing Ichigo as the sort to see this as an everyday thing with balloons tacked on, but to benefit from being a part of it rather than not, even if he would not admit it himself. Rukia knew enough about being on the outside to recognize how inadvertently placing oneself there could become very real and permanent, and if there was one tie she wanted, was determined to see him see through, it was that of an everyday friendship, not just the kind built on rescuing people from ivory towers or, more impressively perhaps, from themselves.

Off to one side, Kuchiki Rukia smiled behind the sip of soda, both hands curved around the glass like they had something for the cold of it contrasting to their warmth, and maybe they did. Not a conscious thing, however, it just served as a sort of useful way to watch people without being watched back, doing something so unremarkable as drinking and idling with her back to a wall, every now and then glancing at a clock in view with some trepidation for the midnight approaching them. There was every chance there would not be a curse and there was every chance that there would be. Her fingers curled a little tighter but her eyes kept to wide and a little one-dimensionally amused, smiling but distracted.

Chastising herself, she lowered her glass briefly, letting her eyes fall to the line of carbonated corn syrup and whatever else it comprised itself of. What was corn syrup anyway? She would have to ask Ichigo (not because he would necessarily know, but it being her wont to ask him questions she knew would have him giving her a look that asked her why did he put up with this and couldn't she look it up herself before answering her anyway.) What was corn syrup? That, and other queries, not the last though perhaps the most recent among them being: would Ishida have accepted a gift from her anyway? She too had failed to bring something, not being able to fathom what to bring, and not sure if it was the thing to do anyway, not being 'friends' and yet being enough to follow forward at each other's heels to save a mutual friend. Where should present giving fall in such a line of duty? Or did it?

It was difficult to say, and having not been asked or planning on asking herself, she contented herself, still to the side, with another sip of cola, wide bluish eyes a deceptive opaqueness that let her continue watching the smiles and the antics of a birthday party, wondering in some distant part of her mind how the subject himself felt about this. Picturing what his face might have been upon opening the door was easy enough--something mildly reminiscent of rejection or utterly so, something removed and beyond all this--but something told her it had not been quite that predictable. Just a feeling, but sometimes even those were right, or so she had come to learn.

Some dry voice seemed to laugh at that thought or half a thought, as if saying well it did take you long enough, but Rukia did not disagree with it.

"Happy Birthday!!" she cheered with the others, as the door flew open. She was absolutely delighted to see that look of surprise on Ishida's face-- at the very least, he didn't look too upset! Quickly stepping forward, she gave Doumeki a nod of her head in gratitude, before clapping her hands together happily and beaming up at Ishida.

"We've got cake and treats and lots of presents, Ishida-kun! I bet you thought we'd all forgotten, right? Doumeki-san, and Kurotsuchi-san deserve a lot of thanks for their help!"

Considering the way everything had turned out, Orihime was more than glad to have had the opportunity for this party. She'd been keeping to herself quite a bit, having felt that her presence among all her friends was so fleeting that to hope for anything more and deny what was to come would be utterly and absolutely selfish of her.

But-- she could enjoy this for what it was, right?

As the event continued, she glanced over at Rukia, feeling mildly guilty that she hadn't been able to catch up with her since her return to the City. Bracing herself, she figured, now that she was here at all, she'd make sure that that mistake would be compensated for. And with a plate of her tomato-cheese muffin, and a cream roll, she appeared before Rukia with the brightest smile she could muster.

"Kuchiki-san! Why are you hiding all the way there? The party is this way!"

Keep it casual. There wasn't anything to worry about now, was there?

Arisawa-san, Kurotsuchi-san, and Inoue-san -- even in the midst of his recovery, he shot a narrow look at Doumeki-san, even as Inoue-san cheered he noticed a certain edge to Arisawa-san's smile, a warning in her greeting, even as he struggled to regain a thicker skin with aplomb, he saw how soft Kurotsuchi-san's expression was.

(He began to wonder, before he could stop himself, where Kurosaki was, he could feel his reiatsu, as well as Kuchiki-san's, but--)

Inoue-san clapped, and he found his composing interrupted by her swift, bubbling babble.

"I" he tried, his mouth opening for the monosyllabic word, and closed as he helplessly pushed at his glasses. I hadn't thought you knew to forget or This is ridiculous. Time here is meaningless, any celebration of any event is doubly so (a casual disregard for his insistence that they remember Inoue-san's) or I refuse to be grateful for something for which I never asked.

Something like that.

It wasn't even that Arisawa-san's face told him, clear as Kurosaki's reiatsu for miles, that if he said something like that, he would lose teeth. It might have been the curl of Kurotsuchi-san's fingers, or the brightness in Inoue-san's eyes, expectant and eager. An image flickered through his mind, the bad reception on an old television; a blue cone perched in Sensei's thick grey hair, the party hat slightly askew as the rubber band dug into his chin. Uryuu's shoulders slumped, just a touch more than minutely.

"You--" he managed, a must, "shouldn't have done this."

But sounded defeated, at a loss, and not nearly cold enough. What was he supposed to do, here?

"... Thanks."

[ooc: ffff long dramticu tag HOW EMBARRASSING /swirls down toilet...4eva]

Edited 2009-11-08 06:58 (UTC)

Funny thing, that all that Doumeki could think was 'Thank God for Inoue-san'. Because honestly, he had fully expected Ishida to turn around and walk out. If he did that, of course, Doumeki would've had to stop him. Fortunately, it seems like he won't have to. And he'll totally let Inoue take over from here.

Sup, Rukia. Doumeki's never been a man of many words, and he isn't really right now. But he is coming over to visit, leaning on the wall next to her, a cup of punch in his hand. "Yo."

Tatsuki's smile turned into a real grin now, and she walked closer, unable not to sling her arm around Orihime's shoulders. Grateful, really.

"Yeah, so anyway, can we start eating now?"

Eying the plate of....something that looked very much like a normal muffin but probably was not, Rukia found it an easy thing to smile at Inoue Orihime. It had something to do with the girl's understanding of Ichigo, admittedly, but more to do with her perception of herself. This ease was not natural but it was not something she had to try very hard for either, something organic in her interest and investment in the healer to make up for the lack of it in other places she understood less. Though young, living world years no less, the girl had a peculiar quirk of wisdom about her concerning the loud-mouthed Kurosaki Ichigo, and in softer tones, her friends as a whole. Or this was the impression Rukia often got from Inoue, as if the girl could trap up sunlight with a laugh and wanted to share it with everyone by letting it go free.

"I'm not hiding," she tilted her head a little with her own smile widening, because it was true. Since attempting to help train her friend--for she did consider them friends--there was a newer brand of candor on the shorter one's side, as if it might equate itself to we are closer than we were and this is how I might express being aware of it. "Are you having fun?" she asked, and then, almost as an afterthought, she also said, "Or maybe I should be asking Ishida that?" Though small enough to wear Karin or Yuzu's clothing, Rukia was old, older than most people remembered, and sometimes a fraction of that facet showed. This might be considered one of them.

The smile she offers him is not so terribly unlike that of the one she offers the others, despite not knowing this one much at all. That the others consider him friend is, in ways, enough for her. She has not come here generally or specifically to judge anyone save, perhaps, for Ichigo for who it is sort of an understood. Very much not so for this case, she glances at the cup of punch before returning her gaze to him.

"Hello," she nods once, polite but not dry.

It was never very difficult to find Kurosaki Ichigo. “Working on it” or not, he still slopped spiritual energy around like no one’s business. Which was just fine with Hiyori—it would only make it that much easier to track him down and smash his face out the back of his skull with her foot.

She’d meant to do that yesterday, actually, but Shinji had gotten to her first, so she’d put finding (and maiming) Ichigo aside for the moment; she’d wanted to settle things with that Arisawa Tatsuki girl first, though Shinji had gotten in the way there, too. Dinner had been an odd affair that Shinji’s shins would likely remember for the next few days, but there was something of an uneasy truce between the two girls. Tatsuki had too much spiritual energy to be a completely normal human, making her situation similar to Orihime and Ichigo’s, but that still didn’t mean Hiyori liked her, or that she wouldn’t take the first chance she got to kick her around a little. Still, she knew she couldn’t kill her, and she couldn’t blow her or Shinji’s cover, which limited her options somewhat.

Tatsuki had gone rushing off a few hours ago, and who knew (or cared) where Shinji was, leaving Hiyori ~~untended~~ alone in the shop.

Which meant she had plenty of time to remember just how much she wanted to stomp Ichigo’s face in. She didn’t have anything better to do, and there was no time like the present, so she closed up the shop and set out to find him.

Her search had taken her to Building 1, specifically apartment #7. There was a considerable mount of spiritual energy in there, not all of it Ichigo’s and most of it considerably better-repressed, but there was no doubt about it; Ichigo was definitely in there.

And so she knocked. Hiyori-style.

A single kick broke the bolt locking the door and sent it swinging wide, smashing against the inside wall before bouncing back a little to sag on its single semi-intact hinge. Her expression bland, as if kicking doors off their hinges was nothing out of the ordinary, Hiyori stepped inside, scanning the surprised faces that had turned her way, noting offhandedly that Orihime and Tatsuki were present, looking for Ichigo.

Edited 2009-11-11 18:21 (UTC)

Nemu herself hung back, but she kept a distance that was not far enough to seem cold, but not close enough to send the impression she was trying to insert herself in to the human closeness she felt these people shared.

"Please enjoy yourselves, everyone." But her voice remained kind, warm, in her way, as did her smile, gesturing towards the food on the table.

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Log; incomplete; closedish?

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LOOK. I'M HERE.

/sees you / might be slow or disappear tonight due to failkuisms ;-; <33 backdatage y?

open and separate since ...orz? is this okay gaiz? /didnt want to hold main thread back X.X

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It is absolutely fine I bet bb :D

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OF COURSE IT'S OK

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<333333333!!!!! \o/

<333 kdjsjld yayyyyy

/gives up on waiting IT’S PARTY-CRASHING TIME & pretend this is like 45 mins or so into the party?

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